


Nakhshur

by div2994



Series: The Eagles Are Coming [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Battle Of Five Armies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Gen, M/M, only some characters die and i'm sorry (but only a little)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3489593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/div2994/pseuds/div2994
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the brothers got the showdown with Azog they deserved?  And what if we change who dies at the end of the battle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nakhshur

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel of sorts to The Eagles Are Here so I'd recommend reading that first to avoid being spoiled. So without further ado...

Amidst the ring of steel and the exhaustion of battle, Fili wasn’t quite sure where his brother had got to.  As a mighty beast swung at his head, narrowly missing and hitting the tower wall behind him, he ducked then flattened himself against the wall to escape.  As he left the watch tower, he called out for Kili but received no reply.  Only moments before had they been scouting the watchtower, looking for signs of Azog the Defiler or his army.

From the lower ramparts of the watchtower, he’d seen Thorin take on a whole orc pack with only Dwalin by his side.  He rushed to defend his uncle, swinging his sword at the oncoming army.  If this was to end in fire, they would all burn together, and Fili still held to that promise.

“Uncle!  Azog was there but only a small host remained, there was no sign of him.” Thorin gave him a nod of acknowledgement and continued hacking his way through the dwindling goblin mercenaries.

“Have you seen Kili?  He never came down from the tower,” Fili shouted over the clash of swords and axes.

Thorin turned, fear dawning in his eyes; there was a brief lull enough in the fighting to pause and catch breath.  “I thought he was with you,” his voice gruff and uncertain.

“He was, but-” A fresh onslaught put paid to their discussion as more goblins swarmed the battlements.

Fear and concern could wait, they would live to fight another day; they had to.

Black blood slicked the stone as the keening of dying orcs and goblins filled the air.  The stench of death befouled the air and nauseated Fili slightly; he had never seen such bloodshed, being too young to have fought at Azanulbizar, but Thorin and Dwalin had seen more than their fair share.  When they had finally defeated the mercenary horde, Thorin’s thoughts were drawn to the Pale Orc.

“I’m going after him, then the line of Durin will be avenged.”  He drew what strength he had and started off down the steps, Dwalin and Fili close behind.

“Should we not find my brother?  Uncle, he must be here, I need to find him.”  Thorin descended the last of this flight of steps and turned to Fili.

“I would avenge our house, and as my heir, I would think you would understand.”

Fili was taken aback at his uncle’s harsh words and began to protest angrily, but was silenced by Thorin placing his hand on Fili’s shoulder and grasping the back of his head, saying, “But the line of Durin is not merely Thorin, son of Thrain, but also my sister-sons both.  I would have your swords if you’d give them.”

Fili laid his forehead against his uncle’s, that simple touch confirming his decision.

“We will find Kili then we will end this.”

 

* * *

 

The three warriors agreed to make for the watchtower to find a trace of the youngest of their party, but with the softest of foot falls, their master burglar interrupted their plans.

“Thorin, wait, you must listen,” Bilbo began, panting from his exertion; at hearing his voice Thorin turned, not listening to his warning, not paying heed to the horrors about to befall them from the north, astonished at his burglar returning after all his words at the gate.

Without a word he crushed Bilbo to him in a hug that soothed his nerves so well he was surprised he could even think straight.  _His burglar had not abandoned him._   He drew back to marvel at the face that was now slightly pink with embarrassment and allowed the hobbit to catch his breath.

“Gundabad orcs, Bilbo, is the elf sure?” Dwalin asked, his brow furrowed in worry.

“That’s what he said, yes, so I needed to come and warn you.” Bilbo replied.

“Thank you Bilbo, now you must leave, go find Gandalf, I won’t have you harmed for our sakes,” Thorin urged him, “We’ll deal with this, go!”

He watched the hobbit begin his descent back down the stone steps and a pang of regret pierced his heart; it was now or never.

“Bilbo!”  He made off after him, catching up with a few long strides to overtake Bilbo’s shorter ones.

Not allowing himself or Bilbo to speak, Thorin grasped his head in his hands and pressed his lips desperately to Bilbo’s.  For a few seconds Bilbo didn’t move, seemingly stunned by the dwarf’s show of affection amidst such death and ruin, but he responded urgently, wrapping his arms around his neck and rifling his fingers through his hair.

“Wha-  What was that for?” He asked when Thorin finally pulled away.

“I had to remind myself of what I’m fighting for.” He answered, smiling affectionately before commanding, “Get to safety now, Bilbo, I’ll come find you when this is over.”

A howl pierced the air above them and Thorin threw Bilbo out of the way, back up the steps to where Dwalin and Fili were standing, Dwalin deftly catching him before he hit the ground.  Thorin looked back to find the host of orcs bearing down on them.

He raised his sword above his head and launched himself at them, swinging and cutting them down in twos and threes.  Fili joined him with a shout, and they drove the host back enough to escape onto the ice.

With their backs to each other they were soon surrounded by two dozen orcs, armed to the teeth and eager to strike down the line of Durin for their master.

“Fili!  Uncle!”  A cry came from the entrance to the watch tower as Kili appeared, hobbling and bleeding.

“Kee!”  Fili charged the attacking orcs and with clashing steel and piercing howls soon they were upon him; Kili ran to defend his brother, raising his sword to strike at the weak points in their armour.

“We thought you were lost!” Fili shouted over the skirmish, looking his brother in the eye before taking down his opponent and blocking another.

“Me?  Never!” Kili’s fearless attitude to the battle seeped into Fili’s bones and he felt a renewed sense of vigour at fighting alongside his brother once more.

Thorin was beaten back to the edge of the frozen river, and they both hastened to his side, reaching up together in time to block a particularly large orc’s attack.

Before they could deliver the killing stroke, Fili felt a rush of air beside his face and a handsome elvish hilt protruded from the orc’s chest.  They both jerked out of the way in time to let the orc fall off the edge as Thorin retrieved the sword from its corpse.  They pulled him to his feet and they looked over the edge to see the blond elf prince battling Azog’s lieutenant.

They stepped back from the edge, catching their breath as Thorin recognised the sword as his own.

“Where were you Kee?”  Fili pulled his brother back, one hand on his shoulder. “I looked everywhere, I thought-“

“I heard Tauriel call my name, I couldn’t come down while I knew she was up there.” Kili grimaced, still clutching his side, and looked up to the ruined tower.

“And where is she?” Fili asked after a moment’s pause.

“She fell.” He said, his heart tightening.  He saw Bolg take her over the edge of the platform but he knew not where she lay now.

“But if Bolg’s down there-” They looked over the edge to see the tower collapse and the elven prince disappear, “Then she could be alive!  Kee, we can find her, we’ll go and look now.” Fili tried to smile reassuringly, his uncle’s footsteps behind them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and as he turned to look he saw the Pale Orc, holding a chain in one hand.  “What is that?” He wondered idly, before coming to his senses and regaining his battle stance. 

 

* * *

 

The battle passed much in a blur, Fili’s memory only dimly recalling the taste of blood in his mouth, the ache in his limbs, and his burning muscles.  One sharp image he’d remember until the day he died was Kili’s face, newly hardened with a vengeful expression Fili struggled to [unite, relate to, bring together with] his baby brother.

The three of them worked in near-perfect synchronicity, avoiding the heavy rock and forcing Azog to strike at each in turn, dodging at the last second, his blows cracking the ice underneath until he was a lonely figure on a large slab of ice floating disconnected, allowing the dwarves to use his great weight to their advantage.  Fili and Kili each forced the ice down into the river with a foot each, toppling the orc and allowing their uncle to step between them and deliver a heavy stroke, splitting the orc’s armour and rendering a deep gash through his chest.  As he fell between the ice, Thorin dealt one final blow, taking his head almost clean off and splattering them all with blood, hot and acrid against their skin.

Thorin clapped a hand to Fili’s shoulder, face splitting in a smile so broad and relieved that Fili had to return it.  Kili hobbled over, clutching his side, but grinned at having finally defeated the orc who’d tailed them for months on the road.

“We did it Fili.  It’s done.”  Thorin clasped his nephew in a tight hug before pulling away and throwing his head back, inhaling long deep breaths and marvelling at their victory.

Fili stared at the body of the orc who’d vowed to end them all, floating under the ice disembodied and grotesque, almost disbelieving that they’d won. He’d been so sure that they were going to their doom; he followed his uncle regardless but he had not hoped for victory.  Kili came to stand beside him and put an arm around his shoulder, squeezing tight, and Fili turned, putting a hand on his shoulder, and smiled at his brother, so glad they’d made it through.  They’d get to go home, rebuild Erebor, would live the lives of which their uncle had talked so fondly.

“We did it brother, all three of us.” He grinned and pulled Kili into a hug, which he returned but winced as he did so; Fili pulled back, suddenly concerned.  “We should get back, find Oin, he can tend to you.”

Kili was panting slightly and holding his side, his face contorted in pain.  He nodded and with one arm over his brother’s shoulder, they began to make their way back to the stairs.  Drops of blood marked their path on the ice, first small splashes then a far more worrying steady trickle, growing darker and staining Fili’s armour as he held his brother up from collapsing on the ice.

“Thorin!”  Fili gently lowered his brother to the ice while screaming his uncle’s name.  “Thorin!  It’s Kee, he’s hurt…”

As Thorin approached, his heavy boots cracking the ice as he ran, Fili trailed off, hands covered in blood as he attempted to stem the flow.

“Get Oin, we need him now, he won’t make it down the hill.”  Thorin’s eyes widened in shock as he gasped, seeing the full extent of the wound in Kili’s side as Fili moved the broken chainmail to take a look.  A deep jagged hole in his side pooled with blood and Kili began to lose consciousness.

“Go Fili, now!” Thorin shouted, but Fili shook his head.

“I belong with my brother.” Fili almost choked on his words as Thorin grew paler and nodded, his mouth dry and his fingers tensed in Fili’s jerkin.

“Fee…” He struggled for words as his face grew pale and his brother clasped his hand, kneeling by his side.

“I’m here Kee,” Fili felt tears prick his eyes but he refused to cry in front of his brother; they would fix him, they would all make it through this.

Kili’s grasp was strong enough to squeeze his hand, the other hand searching for Thorin.  He stood dumbfounded, disbelieving.  His young reckless nephew had always made it somehow, even when the odds seemed against him; he’d make it now.

At that moment Dwalin appeared from behind Fili, footsteps echoing down the steps.  “Thorin, we need you, it’s,” he took a deep breath and swallowed, “it’s Bilbo.”

His blood ran cold; his nephew and his burglar, he wouldn’t lose them both, he couldn’t.  He nodded then knelt by Kili.

“I’m going to find Oin, I’m not going to lose you, either of you.  Fili, keep him awake, I don’t care how.”

He stood and with one final glance to his nephews he left, Dwalin telling him that Oin was with Bilbo, that he could send him down once he’d arrived.

Fili looked back to his brother, his mouth dry and a lump in his throat he couldn’t shift.

“You’re going to be alright Kee, you’ll see, we’ll get back to the mountain, Mother and the others will come, we can rebuild.  And the mischief we’ll get up to, I need you there.”

Kili smiled weakly, nodding as Fili continued to murmur promises of their future, of the future they’d always only ever dreamt of.

“And you made Tauriel a promise, remember?  You’re going to see her again, we’re going to get out of here and you can see her,” Fili choked back a sob as Kili’s smile faded a little.

“I don’t think,” he coughed and his breathing grew more ragged, “I don’t think I’ll ever see her again.” A tear rolled down his cheek as he looked up at his brother.  “I’m glad you’re here Fee, I don’t want to do this alone.”

Fili refused to let the tears fall but his throat burned and his chest ached, a sick feeling of despair churning in his stomach.

“You listen to me, Kee, mother will kill me, you know she will, it’s always been you and me, please Kee,” he pleaded as Kili’s grip weakened.

His eyes closed and his chest stilled; Fili let out a rasping sob, and his cheeks grew wet as he laid his forehead to his brother’s, still clutching his hand, murmuring promises that they’d go home, that they’d be together.

He sat cradling Kili for what seemed like hours, holding him and refusing to let go, even when Oin and Balin arrived, tried to tell him it was no good.

He felt split in two, empty and hollow, unable to believe that this was it, that Eru could take his brother from him.  His soul was fractured, he was a half without a whole.

When his uncle arrived, eyes red and hands bloody, he understood; he wasn’t the only one broken.  The others left them to their grief and when finally alone, Fili howled with the pain of it while Thorin sat withis face in his hands, his body wracked with ragged sobs.

When he’d screamed himself hoarse and raged against the world, he finally collapsed on the stone steps.  Light footsteps beside him went unnoticed as he sat numb.

“Fili,” a light touch to his shoulder roused him and he looked up to see Tauriel, her face stricken with grief as she looked to where Kili lay.

She lifted a hand to wipe away her tears and held out her hand; in it was the dark blue stone their mother had given his brother, the promise he couldn’t keep to her.

He bowed his head then stood to look her in the eye.  Her eyes were still filled with tears but she looked at Fili, offering him the stone.

“He gave it to you, you should keep it.” He said gruffly.  He wanted nothing to do with it.

“It was his promise to your mother, it should,” she swallowed and fresh tears fell down her cheeks, “it should be returned to her.”

He considered this and eventually held out his hand, the stone placed there with trembling fingers.

“You can see him if you’d like,” he said finally, turning the stone over in his palm.

She nodded in thanks and descended the stairs to the ice, leaving Fili to his grief.  The cold stone dug into his palm as he grasped it tighter and tighter, fingernails leaving marks in his skin.

Kili had the stone as a promise to return to their mother but Fili had made the unspoken promise that he would keep him safe, that he would return him unbroken.  He’d failed and the stone was nothing but a cruel reminder.

With one final glance back at Tauriel kneeling by his brother, he turned and left for the mountain, Dwalin waiting to go with him back to the Blue Mountains to give his mother the news she dreaded.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Nakhshur' is Neo-Khuzdul for 'containing sorrow', it seemed rather appropriate.
> 
> Requested by my sister (doitforthepie on Tumblr). I'm so sorry, someone has to die! I hope you enjoyed that, if you did, comments would be greatly appreciated! I'm also here: orcristhorin.tumblr.com so if you want to talk sad Bagginshield, hit me up!


End file.
